You Can't Run From Everything
by That G33Ky Girl
Summary: A series of one-shots from Jack's past.
1. Truth? No truth at all

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Pretty please?

Chapter One

"Truth? No truth at all."

Jack walked quickly across the hot sand, measuring out his paces carefully. One, two. That annoying girl followed behind him, nagging him about trying to save Will. It was hopeless to even hope to rescue him and she just refused to see it. Not a chance. Three, four, five. Finally. He jumped up and down on the sand, noting the way it sank fractionally under his weight. Excellent. He hadn't been sure he would be able to find it again. Elizabeth said something that forced him to face the grim facts. "How did you escape last time?" she asked angrily. "Last time?" he repeated bitterly, "Last time, I was here for a grand total of three days, alright?" She could have no idea what it cost his pride to say that out loud. She stared at him, disbelieving. "Last time," he said, throwing open the trapdoor that led down to the rumrunners' hideout, scattering sand and grass everywhere, "The rumrunners who used this island as a cache came by and I was able to barter passage off." "From the looks of things," he continued into the dark, sandy hole, "They've long been out of business. We probably have your bloody friend, Norrington, to thank for that." One deeply tanned hand emerged, triumphantly holding a bottle aloft. Filled with rum, of course. Elizabeth seemed on the verge of tears. "So that's it, then," she said resentfully, "That's the secret, grand adventure of the infamous Jack Sparrow." She bit off each word slowly and distinctly, making him feel her anger, "You spent three days lying on a beach, drinking rum." Jack considered all possible responses to her irate incredulity, then picked the one that came easiest to him. "Welcome to the Caribbean, love," he said. He edged passed her, pressing a bottle of rum into her hand. She glared at it a moment and then followed. She found him standing on the beach looking out at the sea. "Is there no truth to the other stories?" she asked furiously. "Truth?" Jack asked dangerously, eyes narrowing. He pulled up a sleeve of his baggy shirt, exposing the 'P' branded into the top of his right wrist. 'P' for pirate. He pushed back the other sleeve, where a network of old scars snaked up his wrist, souvenirs from a past battle. Pulling open the neck of his white shirt revealed a pair of bullet holes, mere inches apart, where someone had twice shot and almost killed him. That man hadn't survived for a third shot. "No truth at all."


	2. Freedom

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Pretty please?

Chapter Two

"Freedom"

"Not just the Spanish Main, love," Jack said, thinking of when he would get his ship back, "The entire ocean. The entire world. Anywhere we want to go, we go. That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails, that's what a ship _needs_. But what a ship _is_, what the Black Pearl really _is_, is freedom," he said gesturing at the horizon, which he had often wanted to find. He had always wanted to catch the horizon, to hold it captive. As he said these words, he remembered the first time he had been to sea. He had grown up at sea, of course, but the first time, on his own, with no rules, no boundaries. No limits. That was when he truly knew what he wanted to do with his life. To sail the seas, free from all expectations, from all limits, ties to anyone else's worries, just him and the ship and the sea. That was when his infatuation with the sea had begun. It truly was like a woman, with its many changing moods, many secrets. The sea seemed to be the only thing he couldn't truly posses. And he respected it for that, loved it all the more. A ship and the sea. The only two things in this world he truly needed. For Jack was really a very independent soul, who needed no one and nothing but a ship and the sea. His two wants in this world, his two needs. And now one had been stolen from him. He had to get that back, must have his ship. _His _ship. The Pearl was _his_ ship. He had known that the first time he set foot on her decks. They were meant to be together, he and the Black Pearl. They needed each other. The Pearl needed a captain and he needed a ship. Of course, the Pearl could have any captain, but she had chosen him and no one else could really get her full potential out of her. Oh, Barbossa could try, but he never really could master her. That's why Jack needed to get her back. Needed to get back to his ship and the sea, sailing free, without boundaries. That was who he was, what he needed. Freedom.


	3. Or you could surrender

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Pretty please?

Chapter Three

"Or you could surrender"

"You're off the edge of the map, mate," Barbossa snarled in Jack's face, "Here, there be monsters!" And with that, Barbossa slashed at Jack and almost sent him sprawling. They continued fighting, steel ringing against steel. The two pirates were very closely matched, but Jack had the advantage of being several years younger, while Barbossa was rested, and recently fed. Barbossa knocked Jack down, kicking him in the head. Jack shook his head, trying to clear the spots that danced across his vision. His immortal enemy let his sword fall to the ground. "You can't beat me, Jack," Barbossa declared. Jack jumped to his feet and drove his sword to the hilt in his hated enemy's chest. Barbossa glanced down, unconcerned at the sword protruding from his chest. Looking almost disappointed, Barbossa swiftly pulled the sword from his own body, and stabbed Jack in the chest. Jack stared down at his faithless sword standing out from his chest. He recalled all the times he had almost died, all his close encounters with death. Still, he had never expected death to be so… pain-free. It didn't hurt nearly as much as one would expect, dying. At least as much as Jack would have expected, had he not had one trick up his sleeve. Barbossa watched, looking satisfied with himself. Jack's brown eyes widened as he staggered back into the moonlight. In an instant, his face transformed into that of a fleshless skull, his clothes turning to rags, hanging from a skeletal frame. Jack examined his bony hand in the moonlight for a moment. "That's interesting," he remarked casually, as if his turning into a skeleton was an everyday occurrence. Barbossa still seemed to be in shock. Jack rolled a familiar-looking Aztec gold coin across the backs of his fingers. He glanced at his stunned enemy and grinned. "Couldn't resist, mate." Barbossa, seemingly coming out of a trance, threw a handful of gold at Jack and the fight continued. They fought in and out of the moonlight, their bodies transforming from flesh to skeleton and back again. Jack cornered Barbossa against a rock in the cave. "So, what now, Jack Sparrow, are we to be two immortals locked in an epic battle until Judgment Day and the trumpets sound?" Barbossa asked with a trace of wry humor. "Or you could surrender." Jack suggested helpfully.


	4. You can't run from everything

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Pretty please?

Chapter Four

"You can't run from everything"

Seeing the dead kraken had put Jack in a pensive mood. He stared into its dead eye, musing over how it had killed him. Barbossa, standing behind him, said something that caught his attention. "What?" he snapped, turning around. "You can't run from everything, Jack," he said, a peculiar look in his eyes. Almost as if he knew of all the running Jack had done in his life. It put him in mind of a time when he was barely fifteen years old. He had wanted to run from his responsibilities, from all that was expected from him, from his life. Before he left, his father, who could always read him so well, looked him in the eyes, with a sad, knowing expression. He had said the same thing. "You can't run from everything, Jacky." His father's nickname for him. He hardly ever called Jack anything else. Jack stowed away on the first ship that came into port and never looked back.


End file.
